Ebony and Ivory
by Darkened Grace
Summary: Slight AU; That monster, that demon king, will take everything I love and cherish and tear it to pieces if someone doesn't stop him. And I am the only one strong enough to do so. This task may be my final one. Eventual OC/Dragonborn (F)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The only items of Skyrim or Bethesda that I own are a couple shirts, a game disc, and a game guide. All rights go to the kids who make the games. Though it'd be pretty cool if I could be one of them in the future.**

**Prologue**

_Eighteen years ago_

The Ebony Elysium. Known as one of the most perfect, most beautiful realms in all of existence. Despite being one of the planes of Oblivion, many creatures used it as a refuge to escape the turmoil that surrounds the Ebony Elysium. It's situated on the tallest mountain in Oblivion, taller even than the Throat of the World in Skyrim. A truly breathtaking plane, it stretches and reaches out over leagues and leagues of ebony and ivory forests and plains. Every blade of grass and leaf on a skyscraping tree was made from obsidian, quartz, onyx, and crystal. No matter whether the sun or moons were shining, the stone trees and grass always glittered in the light. Animals from every corner of the universe could be found living here. The most predatory animals all seemed to live in content harmony. Wolves could be seen lying next to bear cubs. Lions would share their kill of the day with towering dragons, relatives of Alduin. The ones who sought to escape his tyrannical rule.

On the slope of the towering sentinel that is the White Mountain rests a marble, gold, and ebony castle with soaring turrets and lofty gates. The center tower was the tallest out of the three. The castle itself looked as though it was hewn straight from the pale granite mountainside. The walls were impossible to scale, not a foot- or handhold until the walkway, fifty meters above the ground. The only entry into the castle was through the massive, wrought iron gate in the south wall. There was no way to infiltrate the palace, for it rested upon the hardest stone found anywhere, in Nirn, Aetherius, or Oblivion. It was the ideal home, for its safety was unmatched.

However, on one fateful night, that sense of security was breached.

Something dark, something ancient, and something evil was about to assault the protection of the Ebony Elysium.

A deep rumble shook the very foundations of the Ivory Castle. The diamond chandeliers that hung from the soaring ceilings of the main tower chinked as they were jostled.

The Daedric Queen Morrigan Thalos felt a shiver crawl down her spine and through her two pairs of wings. One set had feathers that mimicked midnight's darkness and the bottom set was as white as a winter cloud. Both pairs were magnificent to gaze upon when completely unfurled. Currently, they were folded against Morrigan's back comfortably. The queen was garbed in her signature armor. Instead of the Daedric armor being black and crimson, the queen's armor was white and spewed ebony light that gathered in a barely discernable aura around her. On the bones of her wings were thick pieces of ivory metal. The thick spikes that adorned the pauldrons and vambraces were more pronounced than usual Daedric armor. The sharp tips of the fingers of her gauntlets were much more severe than the Daedra's typical adornments. The armor itself should have been more than enough to break a mortal's bones because of the weight, yet it posed no difficulties in maneuverability for Morrigan. Over the chest and across her waist was dark, silken fabric gilded with gold. The sword she wore on her right hip was fused with Light and Dark. There wasn't a curve to be found on the entire weapon. It looked to be seraphic, tossed back through time yet forward enough for Morrigan to own it. Its straight edge could cut through any surface as though it was melted butter. The blade was elegant yet simple in its design. The cross guard was conservative, no piece of ebony metal wasted to form its beautifully modest appearance. The handle was molded perfectly to Morrigan's left hand.

Another reverberation shook the palace.

Morrigan Thalos pushed her choppy, black and silver-streaked hair out of her violet eyes and hard features. Using one of the infinite powers at her disposal, she sought with her mind for the disturbance. What she felt shocked her to the core.

The queen knew this entity, knew it from countless millennia ago.

"My Queen, you must leave this place," a woman's voice said. Morrigan turned around to see Lady Nocturnal, Daedric Prince of thievery, shadows, and matron of the secretive Nightingales. The prince was clothed in a very revealing, black robe. The satin cloth was outlined with silver trim and contrasted with her pale skin. The robe had a deep V-neck that reached all the way down Nocturnal's abdomen and stopped just above her navel. It was exposed on the sides and the fabric hung down the woman's legs, hiding the area between her legs. Morrigan had always loved this outfit on the prince. And she had always enjoyed looking at Nocturnal's midnight blue eyes and running her hands through that long mane of sleek, black hair.

"Yes," Morrigan said, her voice lowering with regret and anger. "I see that I must. Do you know who it is that is trying to breach the Ebony Elysium?" Morrigan already knew what it was. Zharr Auri-El, King of the Abyss and the good Auri-El's opposite. The being who ruled over Chaos before the Eight Divines formed consciousness.

"No, I do not," Nocturnal replied.

"I hope that it remains like that," Morrigan solemnly muttered.

An earsplitting boom resounded and shook the palace. Dust fell from the ceiling and rained down on the two women. A subsonic roar made the marble walls tremble from the sheer force. Eventually, a deep, guttural voice began to speak.

"I know you are here, Morrigan Thalos," it spoke. The voice sank into the queen's ebony forged bones. "Come quietly and I might spare this precious realm of yours."

A troubled expression crossed Morrigan's features. Her thin brows drew together over her violet eyes. Her full lips thinned out slightly. She clenched her chiseled jaw.

"M'lady, you must leave now," Nocturnal said, worry evident in her commanding voice. "We can hold him off long enough."

"It is impossible for you to hold off a being this powerful, Nocturnal. Do not fool yourself into believing so. I can barely hold my own against this creature."

Nocturnal's strong features tightened subtly. "Then we will try all the harder. Your safety is the only thing that matters to us."

"You force me to speak in this raucous language of yours so that you may understand me," Thoros spoke again. "Give me your queen before I tear this plane of existence to pieces."

Suddenly, the ground shook and the castle began to fall apart. An enormous segment of the peaked, marble ceiling crashed to the floor not five meters away. Tiny fragments pinged off of Morrigan's armor and wings. She pulled the black silken hood over her head.

"Lady Morrigan, you must leave now," Nocturnal said impatiently.

"No, not until you and the other Daedric Princes leave Oblivion." Morrigan turned to face her. "I need you to be in charge of the evacuation. I don't care how you have to convince them, or even if you drag them out of their planes. Get them out. Nowhere is safe, not anymore." Nocturnal began to protest but Morrigan quickly cut her off. Another chunk of the ceiling shattered on the ground, closer this time. "Get out of here. Now!"

Sounding extremely out of character, Nocturnal pleaded, "You know I won't be able to live with myself if I leave you here, Morrigan!"

"I don't care! Leave now!" Morrigan swiftly placed a hand on Nocturnal's shoulder and willed her to another plane. The other woman disappeared in a white flash.

Morrigan powerfully spread her four wings to their full expanse, over three meters in length.

"All right, you bastard," Morrigan bellowed. "Come and get me."

And come to get her he did.

The King of the Abyss tore through the very fabric of reality. Looking up into the sky, Morrigan saw a gaping black hole with massive hands ending in razor sharp talons ripping at the edges. The skin of the immense hands was surprisingly human in appearance. The hole ripped large enough for the king's enormous body to fit through. He moved too fast through the hole for Morrigan to catch what he looked like. He landed on the side of the mountain and began clawing his way up it like a cat climbing a tree. The mountain shuddered under his immense weight.

Morrigan snapped her wings and launched herself into the air, pulling her sword out of its sheath simultaneously. Her wings ebony and ivory wings flapped powerfully as she flew out to meet the king. When she exited the castle, she got her first true look at what Zharr Auri-El's appearance was.

The colossal form of Zharr Auri-El was quite a sight to behold. Standing over one hundred meters tall, he took up a large portion of the mountainside. The armor that was melded to his skin was a swirling pattern of deep crimson, brilliant orange, and blinding yellow, giving it a likeliness to flames. The plates looked as though they were hammered straight from the forges of chaos. On the king's back were giant dragon wings that spanned across the sky, blotting out the afternoon suns. The king's features were terrifying as well. His eyes glowed an unearthly hue or red and orange and bored right through Morrigan. His lips were screwed up into a mocking imitation of a grin, oversized incisors pushing into his bottom lip. With high cheek bones, a strong jaw, and a straight nose, he would be considered attractive to mortals and others who did not know who he truly was. That was not Morrigan's case.

Morrigan flew down to hover roughly twenty meters away from the king.

Thoros swiped a clawed hand at the queen, which she narrowly dodged. For being so large, he could move quite quickly.

"How about you fight me fairly?" Morrigan shouted at Zharr.

"Now," his deep voice rumbled. "Where would the fun be in that? But I shall oblige your insolent request." He decreased in size until he was a little over two meters. He snapped his own wings and flew up to meet Morrigan in the air. "Is this better, Queen Morrigan Thalos?"

Morrigan kept a stern expression on her face. "It certainly didn't hurt for us to begin this battle on even ground."

Zharr Auri-El vanished for a split second and suddenly reappeared inches from Morrigan. "You will never be my equal. Do not pretend for even a moment that you could stand a remote chance against me." His orange and red burned like hellfire. His bottomless voice reverberated through Morrigan's ribcage.

Before Morrigan could comment or swing her sword, Zharr Auri-El used one of his leathery, scaled wings to bat her out of the sky. The sheer impact knocked her down hundreds of meters, spiraling on the way to the rocky mountainside. Morrigan slammed into the sharp rocks hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs. She tumbled down the jagged slope until she regained her breath. When she did, she stood to her full height of just under two meters. Her wings were now sore from all of the rolling. Morrigan looked into the sky to see the imposing form of Thoros swooping down toward the queen. She quickly readied her sword, grasping it in both gauntlets. She could feel the cold metal through the palms of the metal. Just as Zharr was about to collide with her, she swung her sword as hard as she could, the blade slicing through nothing but air. Zharr had disappeared and reappeared behind her. Morrigan had known he would do this and followed through with her slice. The blade had enough momentum to carry around to the area behind her, turning her around. Her sword cut into Zharr Auri-El's side and he grunted. He quickly snatched the blade with his bare hand and tore it from her grip.

"Let's have a fair fight, yes?" the king snarled at her, his sinister voice accentuated by the intensity of his tone. He flung the sword behind him, off the mountain and into the ebony plains below.

Morrigan's features tightened significantly. That was the only blade that could cut a being like him.

The queen flung a metal gauntlet at the man. He quickly grabbed it in his own fist and slowly squeezed. Morrigan began to grimace in pain as the ivory metal crumpled beneath his relentless strength. Zharr began to force her down onto her knees and he squeezed tighter and harder, her hand being compressed ruthlessly by the creature standing above her. Finally, he let go of her now useless hand, only to swing his fist at her. It connected solidly with her jaw and she saw stars. The strength he possessed was preternatural, immense, and Morrigan knew she could only stall him for so long. The king tossed another blow at her and she dodged it by using a short flap of her wings. Zharr only followed her and snatched out to grab the fabric of her hood, dragging her back within his reach. He threw another punch at her, aimed toward her abdomen. She shot a hand out and intercepted his path by grabbing his wrist. With a hard yank, she wrenched it to the side and he growled in pain. The king swiped at her face with his free hand, raking his talons across her cheek and cutting deep into her skin, drawing out deep purple fluid. It was her version of blood, her life force. She could feel the crisp air burrowing into the open wounds in her face, almost down to the bone. She felt another firm blow hit her, in her abdomen this time. The metal armor conformed to the man's fist, denting in and making it difficult for Morrigan to breathe. He began to lay on punch after unremitting punch to her body. Occasionally, he would tear at her armor with his talons, ripping chunks from the white metal. There was little that Morrigan could do underneath his onslaught. There would be the random blow that she managed to avoid, but there were five more that she couldn't evade. Eventually, she was a bleeding, swollen mess, deep violet liquid flowing freely from numerous wounds.

Zharr Auri-El cranked his leg back and kicked with all of his unnatural strength. His foot smashed into Morrigan's stomach and launched her at least three leagues off the mountain. Before she hit the ebony and ivory grass fields, she righted herself with a few flaps of her four wings. However, not before she hit the ground hard, kicking up shards of the diamond and obsidian ground. She left a kilometer-long skid mark in the earth.

"You do understand that you are unable to kill me, don't you?" Zharr's voice was amplified sevenfold, piercing through Morrigan's mind.

Morrigan Thalos smiled through the immense pain she was subjected to. Her incisors, which were longer and sharper than most every creature's but Zharr's, were prominent in that bloodstained grin. It was not a hospitable expression, obviously.

"No one said I need to kill you," Morrigan told him, her usually silky voice now rugged with pain. "Not yet."

"Do not be foolish," he insisted as he flew to land in front of the battered Daedric Queen once more. A firm boot to her chest pushed her back onto the ground below her. He kept his metal-encased foot there, trapping her and making it more challenging for her to breathe. His flame-like armor was spattered everywhere with her blood. "No matter how much time you manage to acquire, it will never be enough to figure out how to kill me. Accept your fate as my slave and I may spare you from further torment."

Very eloquently, Morrigan growled through her teeth, "Go fuck yourself." Then she spat at him, the mucus landing on his pale cheek. He slowly lifted a hand to wipe his face clean, only ending up smearing the purple liquid further into his skin.

Without preamble, he drove his boot hard into her sternum, the air from her lungs fleeing once more. Morrigan coughed and sputtered, trying to regain her breath and move away before the creature above her did something worse. She rolled out of the way just as his boot came down again.

"Quit playing these childish games, woman!" Rage was embodied in his voice. "There is no use deluding yourself. Simply submit or I will force you to!"

"You can't force me to do anything!" Morrigan roared back. She could feel her violet eyes burning with anger and hate toward this abomination, this monster. "I will never succumb to a piece of trash like you! You may be ancient and powerful, but that does not equate being invincible. I will tear your fucking head off if I have to! We Daedra can be just as ruthless as you!"

To accompany her vehement statement, she pushed herself off the ground, her boots crunching the precious stones beneath her. With a second wave of sudden energy, the queen launched herself at the demon king standing in front of her. She attacked with all of the force of one thousand dragons, reciprocating the punishment handed to her by Zharr Auri-El. In minutes, she had the king as broken and battered as she was. By the end of her assault, they were both left huffing and puffing, struggling to catch their breath and ignore the pain coursing through their bodies.

Zharr Auri-El ended up kneeling down on the ground, a clawed hand resting on his knee. Morrigan saw this as the perfect opportunity to land a final blow. Faster than a snake strikes, her fist shot out and connected with the junction between Zharr's shoulder and neck, knocking him out cold. Morrigan knew this would be her only break so she summoned up the last of her energy and willed herself to another plane of existence.

It was dark, cold, and silent for a moment, then she found herself in a warm, lit room inside some stone building. From the looks of it, there were traces of Dwemer technology, cookware, and other household items littering the room. The walls were solid, grey stone and marked periodically with a band of golden Dwarven architecture. The room was rectangular in shape and housed a wooden table, two chairs, three weapons cases, and a wooden chest that sat at the foot of a large, feather mattress bed with a green quilt on the top. On the tables was an assortment of different foods ranging from green apples to roasted rabbit leg. A few candles were lit on the tables and in the chandelier that hung over the bed. On the wall above the bed was a weapons display with dragonbone longswords crossed behind a large dragonbone shield.

It would seem as though the Daedric Queen had landed herself in some dragon hunter's home, possibly in the city of Blackreach or Markarth. The former seemed unlikely as the air smelled fresh, not stale like that of the underground metropolis. If she was in Markarth, that meant she was in Skyrim. All she needed to do now was figure out what era and year this was and she would be set.

Before she could do that, however, a woman's voice washed over her. "What the hell are you doing here? More importantly, who the hell are you?" The voice was rough, yet oddly pleasant. Morrigan turned around to face this newcomer, most likely the owner of this home.

What she saw shocked her to the core. The woman was absolutely striking. Rich, dark brown hair, partially pulled into an elegant braid, cascaded down her back and over her strong shoulders. Her face looked as though an artist had brought it to life straight from a painting of some warrior goddess. She had strong features, but not strong enough to be considered masculine. Her high cheek bones accentuated her straight nose and ample lips. Her electric blue eyes contrasted wonderfully with her dark hair. She was a tall woman, and well-built, too. Her arms bore the telltale signs of working at the blacksmith's forge, for they were muscular and toned, along with the rest of her body. The clothing she wore did little to hide her shapely figure and the neck on her burgundy top cut down enough to reveal cleavage. Her soil-colored pants were tucked into leather boots, more than likely bestowed to her by some thieves' guild. On her wrists were ornate, metal bracers that looked to have hidden blades in them.

"What is the year, mortal?" Morrigan Thalos asked sternly.

"The fourth era, year two hundred exactly," the other woman responded with a wary expression. "But that doesn't answer my questions. Why are you—"

Before the nameless woman could get out another word, Morrigan had collapsed to the ground from sheer exhaustion and blood loss. The last thing she remembered seeing before blacking out was the dark brunette with the stunning eyes rushing to attempt to catch her before her head hit the stone floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

Disclaimer: I own none of Skyrim. Just the crazy ideas that pop around in my brain.

As Morrigan Thalos began to regain consciousness, she sightlessly took in her surroundings, relying solely on her senses of smell, touch, and hearing. The room smelled as though someone had just cooked up a stew of some sort. Sluggishly, she felt around with her fingertips, her hands coming into contact with cotton fabric both above and below her. Reaching out with her ears, Morrigan heard far off clanking of what sounded like iron against stone.

Morrigan cracked her eyes open, because that's all she could open them. She saw the same scene now as she did before she fell unconscious. It was the same room she was in when she left the Ebony Elysium.

The queen attempted to prop herself up on her elbows but ended up collapsing back onto the bed she lay in. She groaned out loud and winced at her raw, sore throat. Her body felt like it had been tossed down a mountain, every bone and inch of her body aching and throbbing with pain. Her abdomen was especially tender. Using one of her hands, Morrigan felt around and noted that most of her ribs were cracked from where Zharr Auri-El had kicked her. She noted that her left shoulder was dislocated as well.

What she also noticed was that her battered and ruined armor was removed and she was clothed in a dark blue long sleeve shirt and black pants. The cloth seemed to be made of rough cotton, something Morrigan was decidedly unused to. Morrigan felt her raged begin to swell at the thought of being undressed by this stranger. With an angry jerk, she yanked her left shoulder back in place and set about trying to remove herself from the bed.

"Whoa, whoa," a woman's voice said. "You don't need to be getting up right now."

The queen snapped her attention over to where this newcomer stood. It was the same woman from before.

"How dare you, mortal?" Morrigan ground out through her teeth. "You dare unclothe a being such as me?"

"Look, woman," the dark brunette said, crossing her arms. "I'm not sure who you even are, much less _what_ you are. All I know is you mysteriously showed up in my home, bloody, bruised, and wearing what looked like Daedric armor that had been torn to pieces. That's what I was working on just now, so I apologize if the noise woke you."

Morrigan felt her sudden anger abate as quickly as it had formed.

"Who are you, human?" Morrigan asked after a few moments.

"Recently, I've been called Dragonborn and Dovahkiin, along with Harbinger, a Daedric Prince's champion numerous times over, and an endless amount other needless titles. But locally I'm known as Vivianne Avenicci, daughter of Proventus."

"So you are a respected individual, it seems." Morrigan now looked at the woman standing in front of her with a new light. This woman, this Vivianne Avenicci, would live longer than most mortals because of her status of Dragonborn. She would live as long as the dragon souls she absorbed. To be politically and historically accurate, she was not actually a mortal as Morrigan had originally thought. She also appeared to be a humble being, not dressing expensively or acting as though the world should be handed to her because of her status. Indeed a person to be respected. Not like those pretentious High Elves.

"You could say that, yeah," Vivianne responded.

"You also appear to be very relaxed and laid back," Morrigan commented.

"And why shouldn't I be? This is my home, in a country that is very familiar to me. Still, you never answered my question from three days ago—"

"Three days?" Morrigan's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Vivianne cocked her head a bit. "Yeah, you've been asleep for three days. You were in pretty bad shape when you appeared here. Surely you remember that."

Morrigan nodded. "I do, yet I should not have slept that long."

"Why? What are you?"

"You did not recognize my ebony and ivory armor?"

"It looked like an angelic version of Daedric armor. Other than that, I have no idea who you are."

Morrigan rubbed her eyes, wincing as she brought up her arm. "How much do you know about the Daedric Princes?"

"I know that there are sixteen of them," Vivianne said, thinking. "They all rule over a different plane in Oblivion, have a certain animal that represents them, and they are patrons of specific qualities or people."

"Do you mean to tell me that you have never heard of the one who leads them?"

Vivanne's thin brows shot up with interest. "What?"

"Yes, Dragonborn. There is a being that leads them, controls them. Known as the Daedric Queen. She is the guardian of the elements. She is the purest of light, more so than any of the gods you mortals worship. She is a darkness deeper and more sinister than what Namira and Sanguine control. Essentially, she is the embodiment of light and darkness. She is true balance."

"You're referring to yourself, aren't you?" Vivianne asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Indeed, I am."

"Okay," Vivianne said slowly. "And your name would be…?"

"Morrigan Thalos."

"That last part sounds very similar to Talos."

"You mean that mongrel the Nords revere as a god? His name was inspired by mine. He is no true god, and you would do well to remember that fact, along with never mentioning his name near me again."

"Sounds fair. I'd be pretty pissed if someone stole my name without asking."

Morrigan felt an abrupt spasm of pain shoot through her torso and she fell to a heap back down on the firm mattress, a coughing fit making the agony worse.

Vivianne rushed over to the pain-wracked queen. Morrigan felt a pair of warm hands press her shoulders down into the mattress. The touch was astonishingly calming, something Morrigan would contemplate at a later date. Morrigan's body began to relax and the coughing fit soon ended. The throbbing, however, didn't dissipate. Morrigan gritted her teeth to keep from making a noise.

"You may be all mystical and crap," Vivianne said. "But you really need to stay in bed for a few days."

"I will heal sooner than that," Morrigan protested.

"Not at this rate you won't," the brunette countered. "Especially if you're going to keep insisting on moving. Your body needs time to heal. And to be frank, I don't really care if you're some royalty or whatnot. You are injured and it seems as though it's up to me to help you out."

Morrigan glared at the woman standing next to where she lay on the bed. This person, this peasant compared to the queen, was forcing her to stay in bed and not prepare for her future battle against Zharr Auri-El. Vivianne Avenicci was impeding her progress to be able to fight the king. Morrigan was about to say as much before she realized that the Imperial was right. The queen also recognized that Vivianne was being quite protective.

"You are acting as a guardian entity." Morrigan scrutinized the Dragonborn. "I assume that you are naturally a protective individual. It is fitting that you hold so many titles, then. You must take after your father in that sense."

"My father is too cautious for Whiterun's good," Vivianne said, her features hardening. "I may have some of his features, like dark skin tone, but I've toned back my sense of hesitation after seeing the reality of the world." There was a definite hint of resentment in her voice. "Everything else of me is the complete opposite." And it was true. Morrigan had seen glimpses of the Jarl's steward. He was indeed very reluctant to begin battles and never made any decision hastily. "My sister and I are closer to each other than we are our father."

Morrigan got the hint that Vivianne did not have any pleasant feelings toward her father.

"Are you commanding me to remain bedridden for an undetermined amount of time?" the queen asked, a brow quirked. "I highly doubt that you'll be able to stop me if I try to leave."

"I don't need to stop you. Your body is taking care of that for me." Vivianne sat down on the bed next to Morrigan's pain-ridden body.

Morrigan narrowed her eyes warily.

"How do you expect to nurse me back to health?" Morrigan inquired. "Remedies used by mortals cannot aid me."

"Well that shoots a few ideas down the drain," Vivianne muttered, biting her lip. "How about a Daedra's heart or something of that nature?"

"You are able to acquire such an item?" Morrigan questioned in disbelief.

"You're talking to the Dragonborn and Thieves' Guild Leader. I can get anything I want as long as I have enough money and I ask nicely."

"You humans are certainly interesting creatures."

"Well, would you like to know more about us?"

"I think that I would, yes." Morrigan had always been intrigued by the mortals, humans in particular. "In return, I can teach you about the Daedra, the princes, and myself." Morrigan remembered who her true foe was. She briefly contemplated telling the Imperial and decided for it. "I can also tell you of a creature that threatens all of Nirn."

"What? No, never mind. We'll get to that later. What will it take to seal up these wounds and fix your injuries?"

Morrigan thought for a moment. "Do you think you'll be able to retrieve ten Daedra bodies?"

Vivianne's jaw visibly dropped. "How many?"

"Ten. Will that be a problem?"

The Imperial shook her head. "No, I know just the place to get them. I'll leave in an hour so if there's anything you want, you should let me know now."

"There's nothing this realm has to offer—" Morrigan was interrupted by her own stomach growling ferociously.

"I guess you need something to eat. What did you eat in Oblivion?"

"I will have you know my plane should not be coupled with Oblivion. It is the only area in all of existence where everything is balanced."

"All right. What's it called?" Vivianne looked genuinely curious.

The Daedric Queen spoke the name with obvious reverence. "The Ebony Elysium."

"Sounds lovely. What did you eat there?"

Morrigan felt a sudden surge of humor course through her. She looked straight at the woman that sat above her. "The hearts of my foes."

"Well that's one thing we share in common." The corners of Vivianne's mouth twitched.

"I ate things that you mortals do. Only much less frequently."

"Are there any specific things you want to eat, or should I just guess?"

"Whatever you have currently going in your cooking pot will suffice."

"Pheasant and venison stew? All right, then. I'll have it sent up."

Vivianne rose from her spot on the bed and walked to the chest that sat at the end. She unlocked it and began rummaging around. Morrigan assumed she was attaining gear to prepare herself from her trip. There was the occasional shuffle of clothing, along with a clank of metal pinging off of another piece. This went on for a few minutes. Finally, the lid of the trunk closed shut and Vivianne redid the lock.

On an impulse, Morrigan craned her head up to look at the Imperial. What she saw made her stomach do flips, a feeling she had never experienced in her countless years of living. It was an odd sensation, one that she would have to investigate when she was alone.

The Dragonborn was the very image of a goddess of war. She fit the part better than any of the Daedric Princes or the gods themselves. She bore rugged armor made entirely from solid dragonbone, ebony metal, and fur. The armor was bulky, but it did not seem to slow Vivianne down, nor make any noise whatsoever. On the Imperial's right arm was a dragonbone shield that was easily eight centimeters thick. To be certain, all of the bone armor was exceedingly dense, as much as the shield. However, instead of wearing the matching headpiece, the brunette wore a black cloth hood that hid most of her face. The interior of the hood was a deep crimson.

"Did you forge all of that yourself?" Morrigan inquired.

"Sure did. Are you sure there isn't anything you need?"

"Yes. I only need those Daedra hearts."

"All right. I'm off then. See you in a few days." Vivianne suddenly had a confused expression cross her striking features. She gave a subtle shake of her head.

Vivianne Avenicci closed the brass door that led to Vlindrel Hall, her home in Markarth. Before she left, she had gone into the armory and grabbed her favorite weapons, a dragonbone sword to accompany her shield and Auri-El's bow, along with a quiver full of ebony arrows.

Markarth had always been the Dragonborn's favorite place in Skyrim. She had always loved passing through Dwemer ruins and even delving into Blackreach's depths. If she could live down there, she would, regardless of the Falmer. The only reason she didn't was because of her sister. Adrianne would worry nonstop if Vivianne told the blacksmith that she would live underground in such a treacherous place. The Dragonborn knew she couldn't bear to put her sister through such torment. Gazing out from her elevated position in the city, Vivianne was still awestruck at the architecture of the Dwarven city. That race's disappearance had always intrigued her. One day, she hoped to unravel the mystery that surrounded the Dwemer.

Vivianne departed the city in a swift manner, only briefly pausing to return a friendly greeting from the townspeople. Despite the darker nature that some of them held, such as the meat salesman, they were nice enough people. Vivianne shut the enormous brass doors that led out of the city and quickly made her way to Shadowmere, a horse that she could trust her life with. He'd always been a loyal horse, a trait that was very rare to find in an animal such as him. She hoisted herself onto the sheer black saddle. Shadowmere was one of the biggest horses in Skyrim, reaching up to eighteen hands tall.

The Dragonborn set off on the cobblestone road toward Mehrunes Dagon's shrine. Eventually, she ceased focusing on the trip and let her mind wander.

Vivianne thought about how when she placed her hands on the Daedric Queen, how there was a moment of absolute peace that passed between them, yet it felt as though she had raw power coursing through her body at the touch. It was indeed an odd feeling. To be truthful, Vivianne had never felt such a sensation before. Not even when she absorbed Alduin's soul, which was unbridled energy straight from a god's descendent. Not only could Vivianne feel how much power the queen held, she could also feel how under control Morrigan had it. Vivianne had only known Morrigan for a mere three days, but she couldn't imagine anyone else playing the role of the Daedric Queen. Vivianne herself was a powerful individual but she knew she had nothing compared to the injured woman that was resting in her home. Even in that weakened state, Vivianne wouldn't stand a chance against that strangely attractive woman.

The Dragonborn quickly shook her head, dispelling those foreign thoughts. Her life was filled with danger and tasks she had to devote her undivided attention to. She couldn't afford to get distracted by thinking about someone who wouldn't waste a thought on her.

_Let's focus on something else,_ Vivianne thought to herself.

It was difficult enough to kill a Daedra, much less rip its heart out. The only place where she knew she could find an unlimited amount Daedra warriors was Dagon's shrine, near Dawnstar. It also happened to be near a dragon's roost.

The trip from Markarth to the shrine would take roughly one and a half days. Undoubtedly, there would be bandits, bounty hunters, and hired thugs trying to impede Vivianne's progress. Not to mention dragons, wolves, and those accursed frostbite spiders. The Dragonborn absolutely detested them. It was bad enough when she had to kill the smaller ones. She still had nightmares about the giant one in Bleak Falls Barrow. Vivianne shuddered. It had had her trapped between its fangs and she had only just barely brought her sword up in time, piercing through its thick shell and into its vicious brain. It was a rotten bastard, that spider was.

When Vivianne roused herself from her thoughts, it was already well into the night, with both moons shining brightly in the midnight sky. The northern lights were a menagerie of colors tonight—greens, blues, yellows, and reds, all of different hues. Another sight that Vivianne loved seeing. Skyrim may be cold, brutal, and just plain unfriendly, but it was home to some of the most beautiful sights to be found anywhere in Tamriel or Atmora. Looking up now, she decided it was time to take a few hours of sleep.

The Dragonborn led Shadowmere a small way off the main road and dismounted, grabbing the few things she would need off the horse's sides. She grabbed a snow bear and sabre cat pelt and laid them out on the snow-covered ground. Vivianne settled herself in between the furs, not bothering to take her bulky armor off. Sure, she would wake up with a sore back, but that didn't really matter to her. Within minutes, she was dreaming rather vividly. When she would wake up in the morning, she would pretend that she didn't dream about what happened.

Morrigan lay on the bed, restless and ill at ease from remaining stationary for so long. She could practically feel Zharr Auri-El tearing down each and every plane of Oblivion in search of her. With each Daedra he slaughtered, a piece of her humanity perished. Eventually, the queen knew that she would become the worst of the Daedric Princes, worse than Zharr himself, in her cruelty and mercilessness. It would only be a matter of time before Zharr destroyed all of Oblivion and all of the remaining evil would flood into her form. Morrigan was unsure whether fighting the king as a soulless queen was better than fighting while she had some humanity left.

Already, Morrigan could feel her compassion slipping away, bit by bit. It was in miniscule amounts, yet she knew that she was beginning to care less about everything.

The queen shook the concern from her mind.

It had been five days since Vivianne had left to go find the Daedra hearts. The wounds that Morrigan had sustained were healing as slowly as a mortal's injuries. The gashes caused from the king's talons had grown ugly scabs. The cuts along her ribs still reached down to her ribs but had at least sealed up. Her ribs were still painfully broken, as was her left arm. It was an enormous chore to even breathe. Morrigan felt her injured ribs shift and creak each time she inhaled and exhaled, acutely feeling each sliver of pain.

"When in Oblivion will she be back?" the queen nearly growled.

Far away, a door shut heavily, interrupting her train of thought.

"I'm home," a pleasantly rough, female voice echoed throughout the massive home. Vivianne. Morrigan quickly smothered the swell of excitement that pulsed through her. If she were honest, the feeling irritated her.

Heavy steps thudded on the stone floor, the sound carrying all the way to where Morrigan's prone form was. The noise steadily neared the queen and after a few moments the Dragonborn entered the bedchambers of the Markarth home. Her dragonplate armor was spattered with dark crimson stains, some old and the others fresh, not yet a day old. Vivianne's exposed skin was covered in grime and dirt. The dark filth was smeared over the woman's forehead, cheeks, and nose.

_This rugged appearance suits her well_, Morrigan thought, carefully objective in her observation.

"Here are your ten Daedra hearts," Vivianne announced, hefting a cloth sack tied off with a thick cord near the opening. The tan fabric was soaked with bright red fluid, obviously Daedric blood.

"Wonderful," Morrigan replied. Her voice came out unusually weak and raspy.

"What, have you not been conversing with Argis?" Vivianne asked.

"No," the queen answered bluntly. "I have been sitting here in agony because my bones refuse to mend and my cuts will not seal up. I did not even realize you had an 'Argis'. What would that be, exactly?"

"Are you kidding?" the Dragonborn exclaimed. "How did you eat? Were you even fed?"

"I was. A burly man with strange face paint brought me a bowl of very hot stew once. It was enough to last me until today."

Vivianne rubbed her eyes, smearing the grime on her face even more. "That was Argis who brought you the food. Now that I have the hearts, what do you want me to do with them?"

"Give them to me."

Vivianne set the bag on the right side of the bed and untied it for her. Morrigan reached for the sack and felt a sharp stab of pain shoot through her ribs. She withheld the gasp, not wanting to show weakness in front of the human. She grasped one of the contents of the bag and removed it. She felt the coldness of the rock solid organ in her hand.

"What is it that you're going to do with that?" Vivianne asked quietly.

"Absorb its essence into myself, gaining what vitality it still holds."

"How will you do that?"

"Are all mortals this curious?"

"I'm not exactly mortal, Morrigan. Now, will you please tell me how you're going to gain energy from that thing?"

Morrigan carefully scrutinized the Dragonborn's face, searching for a hidden motive. She found none in the woman's features.

"Push it into my chest."

"That all?"

Morrigan nodded slightly. "I warn you now. Once I have absorbed the last heart, you will need to leave the immediate vicinity. If you do not, your eyes and soul will burn out from the pure fires of Oblivion."

"Sounds painful. I'll leave now if you don't need me."

"That would be wise."

The Harbinger of the Companions left the queen to her business and closed the double brass doors that led into the bedroom. Morrigan slowly brought the scarlet heart near her own and began pushing it into the iron hard skin of her chest. It sluggishly sank into the surface of her body and faintly glowed once it was in position. The queen repeated the process until all but one heart was left. Her entire body burned in an ethereal light. She felt close to normal strength now. All she needed was the last heart and she have sufficient strength to conquer any mortal creature. Without further pause, Morrigan retrieved the last of the contents from the burlap sack and swiftly pushed it into her.

Immediately, her body started to blaze with pure light. The immortal experienced a surge of fire through each of her veins and in her bones. The candles in the room flared brighter than would be possible without supernatural assistance. Icicles formed and hung from the edges of everything. A slight breeze blew through the closed room, making the candle flames burn ever brighter. The stone began subtly trembling, a minute earthquake shaking the room. The intense light swelled within the room, eliminating all shadows. A mortal's eyes would have been burned out of their head and been left to a drooling mess.

Morrigan rose from the bed, her injuries healing at their normal rate. The bones melded together and the cuts sealed completely, leaving not a mark on her flawless skin. She felt her four wings unfurl and she stretched them as far as she was able to inside the small room. The fabric of the shirt she was wearing tore as the wings grew and sprung free of the confining cloth.

The rejuvenated immortal tensed her muscles as she felt a final wave of energy shoot through her. The light in the room shined even brighter than before and a high pitched ringing pierced the atmosphere. A sudden burst of energy erupted inside the bedroom and everything was forcefully flung away from Morrigan's body.

"What in Oblivion is going on in there?" Vivianne shouted.

"Do not worry, Dragonborn," Morrigan spoke, once the noise and havoc had abated. Her voice had regained its strength. She walked to the doors and opened them, letting the remaining light spill out into the dining room that was adjacent to the room she was currently in.

"Well, well," Vivianne said, partly shielding her eyes from the bright light. "Aren't you the fancy one, with your wings and what not."

Morrigan gave her a somewhat confused look.

"You know, for being the Daedric Queen and all, you don't have much common sense."

"It is not a lack of this common sense," Morrigan said indignantly. "I am not…well-versed in the ways of your world and its many customs."

"There aren't that many customs," Vivianne replied.

Morrigan chose not to respond to the human's comment. Instead, she simply strode into the dining room and stood in the center.

"There is something you should know, Dragonborn," the monarch said solemnly. "I mentioned it earlier to you, before you left to retrieve those hearts."

"About that thing that's going to destroy the world as I know it?"

"Yes."

"All right." Vivianne sat in one of the chairs near the wall. "Hit me."

"Why would I hit you?"

Vivianne just shook her head. "Just tell me the important details of this mysterious entity."

"This creature is something more powerful than anything you've faced in your short existence. Zharr Auri-El is the kind of the Abyss. He controls Sithis, an entity I understand you know. He ruled over the chaos that came before the Divines formed conscious thought. A little known fact is that I was the tenth being who was among them. You mortals seem to delight in leaving me out of your stories, despite that I am more powerful than your precious Divines."

"Anyway," Vivianne said, clearly getting impatient.

"The reason I fled to this place, to Skyrim, was because he had attacked my own home. He destroyed the only truly peaceful place in this universe."

"What can I do to help?"

"It will only be a matter of time before he makes his way here. And the only way for me to prepare to fight him is to train as much as I am. That is where you come in. You have the option to assist me."

"How in Oblivion am I supposed to be able to help someone like you?"

"Take me on quests with you. I am not in the shape I should be in if I am to fight Zharr Auri-El."

"Aren't you the strongest person in this plane, though? How will that be training if you can blow them away with just a snap of your fingers?"

"Would you prefer the honor of fighting me?"

"Not a chance," Vivianne said quickly.

"It might come down to that eventually. If there are not challenging enough foes for me, then you and I will spar."

The Dragonborn groaned. "You're joking."

"Why would I jest about such a serious matter?"

Vivianne buried her face in her hands and groaned again. She then rubbed her eyes and looked at the queen with a very tired look. "Okay. I have a number of jobs lined up right now. Do you want to start out easy? Or just jump right into the hard shit?"

"It matters not the difficulty. I need to focus on my combat and telepathic skills. Anything you have that fits that criteria will suffice."

"Then I have the perfect thing for us." Vivianne pulled a small, leather bound book out of her armor. She flipped it open and began skimming the pages. She placed her finger on a section of one page. "Get yourself ready. We're going to kill some dragons."


End file.
